Envy Me
by iPandaz
Summary: The trial is over and Lindsay Monroe is back in the Big Apple. This story follows her and the CSI team as they follow a string of dead bodies and a seemingly untraceable serial killer. Welcome back to the city that never sleeps.
1. Chapter 1: New York New York

**Disclaimer:** Don't own the characters, sadly.

**Summary:**

The trial is over and Lindsay Monroe is back in the Big Apple. This story follows her and the CSI team as they follow a string of dead bodies and a seemingly untraceable serial killer. Welcome back to the city that never sleeps. DL

**Spoilers:**

I live in the UK, so I've only seen up to episode 4 of season 3. However, I have read some spoilers and have a vague idea of what will happen. This story will not mention specific plotlines that appear in the show and references to past episodes will be to those already shown in the UK.

**New York New York**

I want to wake up in the city that never sleeps  
To find I'm king of the hill, top of the heap  
These little town blues  
Are melting away

Lindsay Monroe swept a lock of hair from her face and looked nervously at the man sitting opposite her. It had been more than three months since she had waved goodbye to life as she had known it in New York and three months since she had bravely left those that supported her. In the time that she had been away, Lindsay realised that the people she left behind meant so much more to her than just work colleagues, they were as close to family as she could get so far away from home. So when she faced her boss once again, she felt all the insecurities, all those she thought she had locked away, come bubbling to the surface.

Mac Taylor. The man who personally picked her to join his team. The man who she looked up to almost as a father. The man who would, under any circumstance, fiercely protect what mattered most to him. Now he sits opposite her with that unreadable expression on his face. Lindsay had seen it many times before.

Her eyes follow the file as he places it on the table.

"I want to keep you in the lab for a while, just until you're used to things again." His eyes soften. "I don't want you traumatised so soon after coming back." Her smile of relief held all the response he needed. "However, if I feel that you're not coping or that you're falling behind, I will ask you to take more time off. So is everything clear? Good, I'll see you tomorrow."

Lindsay nods numbly, not quite sure what to do or say. That was all it took, she's back on the job.

* * *

As she walked towards the lifts, Lindsay began to process what Mac's words meant. _I want to keep you in the lab_. Did he think that she was no longer capable of coping with field work? Or was he really just concerned about her wellbeing as he said he was? Either way, Lindsay was determined to show him and the rest of the world that nothing will stop her from being a good CSI.

There are few things in this world that frighten Lindsay Monroe, and what scared her to death was the thought of failing as a crime scene investigator. Back in Montana, she would often wonder if Mac regretted choosing her for his team, if the rest of the guys regretted taking her into their hearts. She was afraid that they would no longer see her in the same light.

She passed the labs, looking in through the glass walls. The lab techs were in there working. Why wasn't she working? Oh yeah, she only got off the plane six hours ago. _Get some rest,_ he had said. That's why she wasn't in there with them.

She wondered what sort of cases they had been getting. Had it been busy? Did she miss out on a lot? She shook her head. _Lindsay Monroe, you're gonna kill yourself worrying. Get over it._

Instead she turned her thoughts to the friends she hadn't seen for… for way too long.

Stella Bonasera. Tall, beautiful and intelligent. She oozed confidence and became more like a sister to Lindsay in the weeks before she left for Montana. She had the ability to get something out of you whether you wanted to share or not. That's what makes her such a good detective. She's rarely angry, but on those occasions when she is, you know to stay out of her way. Hurricane Stella is a force to be reckoned with and no one wants to be on the wrong side of that temper.

Hawkes is the sweetest of the bunch. He has this shy but knowing air around him, which made him such a good CSI. His sharp eyes never missed a thing and his dedication meant that more often than not, it was his evidence that closed a particularly difficult case.

Don Flack is the joker. He has these dark blue eyes that completely reflect his moods. He also proved to be quite popular with the ladies at the lab, and was often on the receiving end of batting eyelashes and coy looks. What Lindsay liked about him was that all this didn't seem to affect him in the slightest. Unlike a certain someone…

Lindsay sighed. Danny Messer. He was the one that played pranks and called her names. Ok, one name. In her first weeks at the lab, he made her feel inadequate and out of place. She'd seen this kind of guy too many times before- cocky, arrogant and with their heads stuck so far up their asses she was surprised they were still walking around. But that all seemed to change. She couldn't pinpoint exactly when this miraculous transformation occurred, but she realised that he was less of all those annoying traits and more…more, god forbid, more mature. She began to notice more of his good qualities, and those eyes…

_Snap out of it Lindsay!_ She chided herself. _Those thoughts will get you into so much trouble._ She still remembered how things were left, her "it's not you, it's me" speech. In hindsight, it was all pretty pathetic really. And she knew that by pushing him away, she probably lost the chance to be with him at all, he was only asking for friendship after all. She knew it was best to forget hoping and wishing and face reality. _You've got no chance with him now, girl. Best give up so you don't feel the disappointment._

She was rudely awakened from her thoughts as a racy Mercedes drove past and showered her with cold, dank gutter water. _Eurgh!_

_Welcome back to New York,_ she thought miserably.

* * *

Lyrics from New York New York

**Author's Note:** There you are folks, chapter 1. It's short but only serves to act as an introduction, promise the next one will be longer. Love constructive criticism, hit me with it, I can take it.


	2. Chapter 2: Just a Bad Day

**Disclaimer:** Don't own the characters, sadly.

**Summary:**

The trial is over and Lindsay Monroe is back in the Big Apple. This story follows her and the CSI team as they follow a string of dead bodies and a seemingly untraceable serial killer. Welcome back to the city that never sleeps. DL

**Spoilers:**

I live in the UK, so I've only seen up to episode 5 of season 3. However, I have read some spoilers and have a vague idea of what will happen. This story will not mention specific plotlines that appear in the show and references to past episodes will be to those already shown in the UK.

**Just a Bad Day**

Sometimes the system goes on the blink  
And the whole thing turns out wrong  
You might not make it back and you know  
That you could be well oh that strong  
And I'm not wrong

Having stayed late at the lab and only having three hours sleep, Mac inwardly groaned as the caller ID flashed on his cell- definitely too early on a Wednesday morning. He felt the form beside him shift and mumble something about nailing someone's ass to the door. Mac hoped she didn't mean his.

"DB found in an alley off West 33rd. The vic's female and covered in motor oil. I swear Mac, if this is another one of those crazy sex cults…" Flack paused to mutter instructions to one of his team already out on the scene. "I've told them not to touch anything 'til you guys get here."

"Alright, I'm on my way." Mac snapped his cell shut and closed his eyes. Another day, another crime.

* * *

Stella Bonasera arrived at the scene with her kit in her hand and ready to go. She wrinkled her nose against the pungent stench as she ducked under the tape to get a closer look at the body. When Mac said 'covered', she had assumed he mean a few splashes here and there. Now that she was actually looking at the scene she realised that he was not exaggerating.

"Have we got an ID on the vic yet?" She asked as she prepped her camera.

"Nope, but I'm hoping there's a purse or somethin' under all that crap." Flack, eloquent as always came to stand next to her. "Gurh, and I thought I was havin' a bad day."

"Girl trouble?" Stella smirked.

Flack rolled his eyes. "No, had my ma yelling at me last night for not going to see her in two weeks. I'm telling ya, it was not pretty."

Smiling to herself, Stella quickly took some shots of the victim and moved on to the area around it, leaving Flack to direct the rest of the officers around the scene.

"Who called it in?" Stella asked as soon as Mac was in hearing range.

"Some guy who was jogging."

"At 5:00 in the morning?"

Mac shrugged. "Said he couldn't sleep."

"I could think of some better things to do if I couldn't sleep."

He smiled. "We all have different ways of dealing-"

"Have you been sleeping lately, Mac?" Stella scrutinised her partner before turning her attention back to broken glass before her. "You look kinda…"

"I'm fine, Stella." Seeing her look, he enforced, "Really, I'm fine."

She sighed in resignation. Mac Taylor is a stubborn man. Intelligent, but stubborn. Ever since the death of his wife, he'd become reclusive and separated himself from those around him. However, she was relieved to see the change in him over the past few months. It began slowly, just little things like smiling more often. Sometimes his happiness would seep into his voice, something only those close to him would notice. Stella was glad he had found someone to open his heart to, someone who made him laugh and smile, and someone who could occasionally bring out the man Mac was before Claire's death. Stella was glad that person was Peyton. She smiled at herself, _he could be the happiest man on Earth and still be like a mule._

Suddenly she frowned, realising why there was a sense of familiarity to the scene.

She remembered. It was the week before. She and Hawkes had been called out to Central Park where a woman had been found with a wound to her head and covered in cooking oil. Nothing was stolen, rape was ruled out and the case had effectively hit a dead end. After a whole weekend of overtime, they had finally admitted defeat, agreeing to come back to it at a later date.

"Hey Mac?"

"Mmm…"

"You remember that case we couldn't solve last week? The DB in Central Park, no prints, no murder weapon, no leads?"

Mac nodded.

"She was covered in cooking oil." Stella waved her hand at the spot where the body was being bagged up.

"You think we're dealing with a serial?"

Stella's look of concern told him everything he needed to know.

* * *

Butterflies. That's all she felt as the lift worked its way up. It felt as if her veins were jolting with electricity, like the blood running through them was made of electrostatic energy. Her hands felt clammy and her throat dry. _Nothing different to your first day then_, her lips twitched at the memory.

She had been so determined to not make a fool of herself and to give Mac a good first impression that she didn't sleep at all the night before. It was also when they had first worked together, her and Danny, and so evoked a sort of sentimentality whenever she thought of it. So what would it be like this time, she asked herself. She couldn't even begin to predict his reaction to her, hell she even had problems imagining her reaction to him. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath as the elevator stopped and the doors slid open. _Back to work_.

* * *

Hawkes was sitting alone in the break room reading over the cold case from the week before. He had been on call since the evening before and raced in when Stella mentioned a possible link between the two murders. He looked up as the sound of high heels approached and then faltered.

He grinned. "Lindsay!" He enveloped her in a warm hug. "Good to have you back."

Lindsay smiled. "It's good to _be_ back. Do you know where Mac is?"

Hawkes took a gulp of his coffee before replying, "Crime scene. You're working in the lab on this case. I'll run you through, Stella thinks we may be looking at a serial."

Lindsay nodded. "Okay, what have we got?"

"First case came in about a week ago. The victim was a Caucasian female, Annie Davis, found in Central Park with blunt force trauma to the head and covered in cooking oil. We could get any usable prints but we determined that the weapon was probably similar to a baseball bat and that the attacker was left-handed." He paused to let her process the information.

"Now the murder that came in today. Female vic still a Jane Doe. Peyton and Sid should be looking over the body now so we'll probably get and ID soon. She was found in an alley off West 33rd by some guy taking an early morning run. Same injuries but this time, she's covered in motor oil."

Lindsay frowned. "Why the change from cooking oil to motor oil? I can see how they're similar but why didn't the attacker use cooking oil this time round?"

"You think it's a copycat?"

"I don't know what I think. I guess we'll have to wait until we can take a look at the skull. What about evidence found around the bodies?"

"First vic, nothing more than what you usually find in the park at this time of year. Nothing suspicious. Blood spatter indicated that she was killed there, rolled over and then covered in oil. Stella's still working on this morning's case, she said she'd run it over as soon as she was finished."

Just then, his pager sounded. Hawkes grinned. "Sid said he'd let me know when he's done. Want to come?"

* * *

"This reminds me of my youth." Sid peered over his glasses at the clean body before him. "There was this girl I used to date and she was quite a-"

Hawkes coughed. "The vic, Sid?"

The coroner looked slightly disgruntled. "Well _Detective Monroe_," he turned to her and spared her a smile, completely ignoring the man standing next to her, "The victim suffered a head wound that caused haemorrhaging and eventually death. There are no defensive wounds, only bruising which was probably caused when she fell. Her handbag was found partially under her right arm, that's coming over with Stella."

"What about time of death?" Lindsay inquired.

"I'd say around 2am this morning, give or take." Sid unclipped his glasses and glanced at the young CSIs standing opposite him. "And that's it."

"That's it?" Hawkes looked incredulous.

"Just like your cold one from last week. Here are what I got from her fingernails and eye-lashes. Oh, and I'll have the skull sent up when I'm done with it."

"Thank you Sid."

"You're welcome, and it's good to have you back Lindsay."

On their way back up to the lab Hawkes ran Lindsay through a few of his theories.

"Neither of the victims had defensive injuries, so we can conclude that they were attacked from behind. The motive wasn't rape or robbery, so he-"

"-Or she."

"Or she had a personal reason? Maybe there's a link between the victims themselves."

Lindsay sighed. "It's still very little to go on."

"Yeah. Listen, can you check for DNA in those," he pointed at the evidence bags, "I'm going to go see if Stella's back yet."

* * *

Stella and Mac stood together looking at the scene before them. The alleyway was relatively clean and yielded very little evidence. The only thing they had found so far was a few shards of broken glass. Both were eying the two dumpsters sitting at the far end when they were alerted to the presence of another person.

"Alright Mac, what do you want me to do?"

Stella raised her eyebrows at her partner. _Good move!_

"Danny." Mac greeted. "I assume Flack's filled you in."

Danny nodded.

"Good. We're almost done here, there's just one more thing…" Mac looked towards the end of the alley.

"Oh no, hang on a second, I'm not…" He wavered, "No way I'm doing that. Look man-"

Stella gave him 'the look'.

Danny knew he had lost and sulkily went in search of the dumpster diving gear.

* * *

There was a reason why Lindsay liked staying in the lab during a case but for the minute, she couldn't for the life of her remember why. She wanted to be out on the field like everyone else, not processing bits of fingernail clippings and gunk from victim's eyes. She puffed out her cheeks and waited for the reports to come through. It was going to be a long few weeks. Mac had told her that before letting her back into the field, she would have to go through psych evaluations and when this would happen depended on how she coped with the lab work. She silently groaned, as much as she loved the scientific side of the job, she knew she would probably die of boredom before the evaluation came through.

She walked over to the printer where the results were back on the trace collected from the victim's eye-lashes. Mascara, motor oil residue and eyeliner. Nothing unusual. Great, just another bad day at the lab.

"Lindsay, please tell me you found something." Hawkes entered, looking frustrated.

She shook her head. "Just your usual make-up and trace amounts of oil."

"Then we're at a dead end. I've got nothing from tox and the skull isn't telling us anything new." He looked pensive. "Damn, whoever did this covered their tracks pretty well."

* * *

As reporters swarmed around the police tape, Flack squeezed through the barrier of police officers to reach the body. The man spread-eagled on the floor was facing down, blood still pooling around his head. Mac was not going to like this.

He flipped open his cell and punched in the numbers. "Yeah, Mac, I got another one for you."

* * *

When Hawkes arrived at Mac's office, he found Stella already there and waiting. "Sorry," he apologised, "I've been trying to chase up some results."

"Don't worry." Mac paced the area behind his desk before speaking again. "We've got another case downtown. Stella, are you and Danny okay to take this one?" Seeing her nod, he continued, "Sheldon, you're with me then. Get your kit and head down first. Send whatever photographs you get to Lindsay as soon as you can. I have to sort out a few things here so you're on your own for now, think you can handle it?"

"Absolutely. I'll go let Lindsay know." He handed he papers in his hand to Stella and headed out.

"Stel, you and Danny focus on whatever pieces of evidence we have, get Adam to run trace for you. Let me know when you have a lead."

Stella nodded her agreement and set off to find said technician. _Poor man_, Mac thought, _he won't know what hit him._

As noon loomed over New York, Mac sat down heavily at his desk and picked up the phone. It's just the beginning of a bad, bad day.

* * *

Lyrics from Bad Day by Daniel Powter

**Author's Note:** Sorry that took so long, I'm afraid life kind of took over this week. I apologise for any mistakes in the places mentioned (I know very little about New York) and any medical terms/procedures. Again, love constructive criticism, thanks for reading!


	3. Chapter 3: The Invisible Man

**Disclaimer:** Don't own the characters, sadly.

**Summary:**

The trial is over and Lindsay Monroe is back in the Big Apple. This story follows her and the CSI team as they follow a string of dead bodies and a seemingly untraceable serial killer. Welcome back to the city that never sleeps. DL

**Author's Note:**

A million apologies to readers/reviewers/lurkers, I've needed to take a break from this so I can sort out real life before I sort this out. I hope this was worth the wait, and if not, I promise I'll do better next time.

**The Invisible Man**

Im the invisible man  
Im the invisible man  
Its criminal how I can  
See right through you.

The scene outside the hotel was one of chaos and hysteria. It was just after noon and all manner of tourists and New York businessmen and women were milling around the cafes and restaurants in the area. It would be fortunate, one would suppose, that the police department had plenty of witnesses to what looked like a suicide. However, as Hawkes found, this was not to be an open and close case.

When all the evidence had been collected from the body and the area around it, Mac and Hawkes headed up to the room where the man had jumped from.

"Your DB is Jason Cault." Flack informed them as they reached room 620. "Originally from Memphis, he's in New York for a job interview."

Mac nodded and surveyed the room. It was moderately sized with a bed to the left side and an ensuite bathroom on the right. The curtains billowed into the room where the window remained open, and despite this fact, he could still detect the faint smell of cigarette smoke that hung in the air. The usual sounds of New York- cars, crowds,- was replaced by a collage of voices, some shrill, others dazed, but all utterly confusing the officers who were taking down their statements.

"Now get this," the homicide detective consulted his notebook, "the woman staying in the next room," he pointed to the left, "619, said she heard scuffling and muffled voices followed by a yell around 11:56. When she ran to her window and looked down, she saw your guy lying on the sidewalk."

Hawkes frowned as he dusted around the window frame. "So he was either arguing with someone who pushed him out the window, or someone was trying to get him not to jump. Do you have any witnesses that place someone else in this room?"

"Nope, no one saw or heard anything other than the lady next door."

"Let's hope we get something from the room then, or we'll have another cold case on our hands." Mac fished out his cell to call Sid. "I'll have Sid page us when he's ready."

The dumpsters, Danny thought as he clambered out of one and into the other, were actually quite clean- as far as trash goes anyway. Thanking whoever was responsible for the two plastic bins, he picked up another bag of rubbish and began rummaging through its contents.

He had found very little of use in the time he had been sifting through the first dumpster- old takeaway cartons, potato skins and even a rotting chicken's head. He did find some cigarette butts but they were in a bag so far near the bottom that he concluded that unless the people living in those buildings habitually threw out their trash in the small hours of the morning, none of them would hold DNA evidence leading them back to the killer.

Danny grimaced and prepared himself for at least (he reckoned) two more hours of searching. At least it's still relatively cold, he thought to himself, otherwise you'll be hitting the lab smelling worse than a skunk's armpit.

* * *

In the break room, Stella was nursing a coffee while glaring intently at the file in front of her. Danny had called her an hour ago to let her know that the first dumpster was effectively useless, she was not happy. What were they dealing with here, the invisible man? The killer leaves no traces, not even half a footprint for the team to work on. Looks like this perp did their homework.

Stella knew that people can be unpredictable. However, while you can't second guess who's going to be a murderer, you can still tell what sort of person they are by their methods and means. This killer was meticulous- everything looked planned, organised. They didn't give themselves away, indicating that they were probably planning to throw more dead bodies at the crime lab.

"Lucky the media isn't on this one yet,"Stella muttered to herself, "Or they'll be having a field day."

She was distracted from her thoughts by the clicking of heels behind her. Her gloomy mood brightened considerably when she saw who it was. Standing up to give the young woman a hug, Stella said, "Good to have you back kiddo, how're you holding up?"

Lindsay bit her lip. "I'm doing good, but the lab work is killing me."

Stella looked down on her sympathetically. "Don't worry, I'm sure Mac will have you out on the field again soon."

"I know, this is just… testing my patience."

"So did everything go OK in Montana?"

Lindsay smiled and nodded. "Yeah, I'm glad it's all over, it feels like such a weight off my shoulders. When it all ended… I felt, I felt free. I mean, the weeks leading up to it… I really can't thank you enough for-"

Stella waved her hand, "Hey, that's what friends are for, right?" Her demeanour then turned serious. "How did your parents take the fact that you're back here?"

Lindsay sighed. "They were never happy with it in the first place, but… they understand, I think. My mom cried, a lot, and begged me to stay a little longer and think it through." She shook her head. "My dad was just quiet. I think he's kinda given up on making me reconsider. Guess it was difficult for him to see his only daughter up and leave."

"It must have been…" Stella's thoughts wandered back to her own family, not her foster parents, but her biological ones. But before she allowed her musings to become too grave, she decided to change the subject.

"So how's your case going?"

Lindsay pulled a face. "Nothing so far. I'm waiting on results from a substance found on the bedside table and prints are running but I'm getting nothing. I just hope Sheldon gets something good soon."

"Well at least you've still got evidence coming in." Stella took a sip of her coffee. "I think we're all out, just waiting on the MEs for the skulls and Flack for the background checks."

The younger woman give her a lopsided smile. "Glad I got swapped out then."

"You better be. At least you'll still have hair by the end of your case, I on the other hand…"

The two women shared a laugh, happy in the knowledge that while the outside world was in shambles, they could still depend on each other, and the rest of the team, to brighten up their day a little. However, this was not to last as the beeping on Lindsay's pager signalled the end of their break and the two women parted to focus on their respective cases, promising to catch up at a later time.

* * *

If there was one thing that Flack did not like, it would have to be talking to people who had already had way too much to drink. I present to you Mr Gerard Barden. At 2pm, he was already pretty far gone, sitting at the hotel's small bar and clutching an empty glass in one hand.

"I'm telling yous, I saw… I saw nuttin. But that, that _guy_ was one _dumb_ bastard." The drunken man waved his glass at the exasperated looking barman. "What's so _damn_ special 'bout that piece o' paper anyway? If you asks me," he leant forward in the stool and jabbed his finger into Flack's chest, "the guy was _definitely_ into somethin'."

The tall detective resisted the urge to roll his eyes and instead asked, "Are you sure you didn't see him talkin' to someone, give someone a package…?"

"I already said," Gerard slid unsteadily onto his feet, "the guy… was a _loner_. Sat 'lone, and _man_, that is one ug-_ugly_ tie." At this he swayed dangerously forward and promptly threw up all over Flack's tie and shirt.

Flack looked down in disgust at the mush that was currently making it's way downwards towards his shoes. _Definitely do not like drunks_, he thought to himself.

"Nice improvement on the tie," smirked a female voice behind him.

He grimaced and turned to greet the newest edition to his team. "Haha, very funny."

"So what do you want me to do?" The young woman was careful to stand a good distance away.

"You good to stay with this case?" Detective Jennifer Angell was definitely a tough cookie. Being one of very few women in the team meant she had to work extra hard to prove that she was just as capable as her male counterparts. And prove it she did. She was very focused and an extremely goal-orientated woman. She was even a little scary sometimes, which always surprised Flack because he never expected as much as that from her, or any of his other team members at that. She reminded him a little of Aiden, he remembered sadly, sassy, smart and able to give as good as she got.

"No problem. You busy then?"

"I've got a nearly cold case, thought I'd let you have the easy one."

She rolled her eyes. "Suuure."

"Hey doc?" Flack yelled across the lobby. Seeing the former ME raise his head, he continued. "I'm outta here, say hey to Lindsay for me?"

Angell gave him a questioning look.

"She's back from Montana, I heard Mac put her in the lab."

"I never really worked with her before."

"Well she's on this case." He shrugged his shoulders and watched as two uniforms arrived to drag Mr Barden from his position on the floor.

"Sober him up, James?" Detective Angell instructed the dark haired man, "I want to question him later, when he's coherent."

* * *

Stella greeted Danny with a hidden grin. He had just returned from taking four showers to attempt to wash away the afternoon of dumpster diving and looked more than a little disgruntled.

"I don't believe it Stel," he was saying, "nothing, _nada_, from that entire alley apart from a few pieces on glass?" He shook his head. "How close are you to piecing it all together?"

Stella sighed. "We're getting there, but there are so many missing pieces that we'll be lucky if we get just one partial from it."

Danny swore. "What about evidence from the vic's body?"

"Nothing unusual. Trace Sid got off her eyelashes was ordinary makeup and there was nothing strange about what we got from under her fingernails either."

The Staten Island native swore again.

"We'll crack it, whatever it takes, right? Danny? Danny?" What Stella saw caused her to worry and smile at the same time. They had been walking past the trace lab. Danny's head whipped around so quickly she could have sworn she heard a crack.

She was there, standing in the middle of the lab frowning at the evidence in front of her. _Man, you need more sleep_, Danny thought to himself, _seeing things again? Maybe I should get some sleeping pills tonight._ But when he looked back, she was still there, but this time she was joined by one of the lab techs who was handing her a sheet of paper. He watched as she broke out into a breath-taking smile, the one she used when things start to make a lot more sense.

He turned to look at Stella, who bore a rather guilty expression on her face.

"You knew?"

She nodded hesitantly.

"Am I the only one that doesn't know?" Danny starting to get pissed off.

"Well, there wasn't enough time this morning, otherwise I would have-"

"And I the only one that doesn't know?" He repeated his question.

"Mac has her working with Hawkes and Flack-"

"Flack knows? Before me?"

"I don't know, Danny."

"Damnit Stella, she gets back and no one even _thinks_ about letting me know?"

"It wasn't a priority Danny." Mac's stern voice cut in. "Now get back to work, if you have a problem come talk to me later."

Danny was fuming mad. He clenched and unclenched his jaw several times before storming past his boss without saying another word. When he was out of sight, Stella closed her eyes briefly before looking up at Mac.

"That was harsh."

At least the man had the decency to look a little uncomfortable, but that was gone in a flash and Mac the boss was back. "It had to be done. We've got enough to do as it is."

"Someone should have told him. Have you seen him lately?"

Mac let out the breath he didn't realise he had been holding. "I don't want him to be distracted. He's a good CSI and I don't want that to change."

The Greek woman nodded in resignation. "So you want to talk over the cases?"

"Ah, the invisible man…"

"Or woman…"

As their voices faded, Danny marched back along the corridor he had just left. _How can they treat it so casually? They act as if she's never left, never had to go through the trial, never… left him…_He peered into the lab, hoping she would still be smiling, still happy, still there.

But she wasn't.

* * *

Lyrics from The Invisible Man by Queen

**Author's Note 2: **As always, feedback it loved, be it good or bad. :)


	4. Chapter 4: Last One to Know

**Disclaimer:** Don't own the characters, sadly.

**Summary:**

The trial is over and Lindsay Monroe is back in the Big Apple. This story follows her and the CSI team as they follow a string of dead bodies and a seemingly untraceable serial killer. Welcome back to the city that never sleeps. DL

**Last One to Know**

Why is the last one to know  
The first one to cry and the last to let go  
Why is the one left behind the one left alone  
With no one to hold  
The last one to know

She hoped she could talk to him before he found out, to explain everything that had happened, but Lindsay Monroe realised she was too late. After taking the results from a lab tech, everyone in the room paused as they heard the commotion outside- Stella, Danny, and a whole lot of yelling.

He was angry. Real angry. There had been plenty of opportunities for Lindsay to see Danny's temper in the past and truth be told, sometimes it did frighten her. From his tense body language and rapid hand movements, she knew that this anger wouldn't pass so easily, and everyone knew why. Even the glass walls of the lab couldn't conceal his wrath.

"_And I the only one that doesn't know?"_

Lindsay shut her eyes, hoping to block out the violent blue of his eyes.

"_Damnit Stella, she gets back and no one even thinks about letting me know?"_

She feels dozens of pairs of eyes burning into her. What was it she was feeling now? A mixture of shame, guilt and self-loathing. When she found out about the trial back home, she knew, or rather believed it best that he were not involved, that he wouldn't be burdened by her problems. Or maybe she was just afraid, afraid of letting another person into her life, afraid of getting hurt again. So what was it she was inflicting on him now?

Quickly gathering her things, she wove between the tables and ducked out of the door on the other side without another backward glance. _I promise I'll explain Danny, if you'll give me the chance.

* * *

_

Danny was beyond livid, so much so that he didn't think there was a word to describe what he was feeling. That _bitch_, running away again, he thought bitterly to himself. Knowing the sound-proofing in the building, he was sure that she heard it all. And there she goes, rushing through the door like Satan himself was coming after her with a ball of fire the size of Manhattan. Hell, she'd been tougher when she'd been faced with hardened criminals and what, now she can't face him?

_Bitch_. Danny shook his head and turned in the direction of the locker room. Why was he waiting for her again? Oh yeah, he thought he was in love with her. Stupid, stupid stupid! She was probably just pulling his strings, toying with him, just a little bit of fun on the side. _Well not any more_, he vowed, _never again_. He slammed his fist hard into the cold metal of the locker door. Fuck her, fuck the lab, fuck the whole goddamn world.

Stella laid out the two files side by side. On the left was that of Annie Davis, their first vic found in Central Park and on the right was Laura Howard. The two women had nothing in common other than their injuries and the oil. Flack had even pulled up past criminal records- none, convictions- none. They didn't know each other, and probably never even crossed paths.

Annie Davis was 27 and working in the marketing and design department in a business management company. According to her sister, who is currently attending NYU, Annie had no enemies (that she knew of) and was well settled in the company she was working for, she was even first in line for a promotion if there was a free position.

Laura Howard was 30, a lawyer. She worked for a freelance company which was seeing its successes grow after winning a string of cases. She had a boyfriend, but he'd been in Buffalo visiting his terminally ill mother, another possible suspect gone. Flack said he would get back to them on the parents front, as they weren't in any condition to give a full profile.

"Well," Mac rubbed the back of his neck, "there is one thing they have in common."

Stella looked at him questioningly.

"Both successful young women living New York."

"But that's it Mac, nothing more." She ran her fingers through her hair in frustration. "I'll get Danny to make a cast of the second vic's skull, when he's cooled down."

Mac grimaced. "That might be a while."

Stella nodded and continued. "But I doubt it'll tell us more than the first. You know Sid didn't manage to get any splinters or fragments from the wounds?"

"We'll work with what we've got, maybe Flack will find something and-"

"And we'll still have no solid evidence to get a conviction! God, I hate this job sometimes."

Mac nodded. "Just don't give up. Remember-"

Stella nodded, "Believe in the science, yeah I know. But what if science doesn't get you anywhere?"

* * *

"Lindsay, please tell me we've got something." Hawkes' tired voice broke through the quiet bustle of the lab.

Lindsay looked up from the microscope and nodded slightly. "I think we're on to something. The sticky substance you got off the bedside table? It's wood glue, which takes around 24 hours to dry out completely. The fact that it was still tacky when you got it off the table meant that if someone else was involved, the glue is just a part of the puzzle. Besides, what would a journalist need wood glue for anyway? Oh, do you have the fibres you pulled from the hinges of the window? Good, I need to run this, then I'll tell you if I'm right or not." She gave him a small smile, which faltered before she had the chance to turn away.

Hawkes looked at her with concern. "You OK?"

She nodded and the wobbly smile was back. "Yeah, I-I'm fine, really."

Though he wasn't convinced, Hawkes let the matter drop, she'd talk to him if she wanted to.

"So er, I also got a fragment of paper from the vic's hand so I'm gonna…" He pointed at the door. "If you need me, you'll know where to find me."

"Yeah sure. I'll let you know as soon as I got something from the fibre." Turning to the work at hand, Lindsay tried to clear her mind of a blue-eyed CSI who probably wouldn't ever want anything to do with her ever again. _Work comes first Lindsay, remember that…

* * *

_

Flack stood tensely in front of the couple seated before him. After the shocks of the murder had been given time to sink in, he knew that he had to get on with the questions, because they still had a potentially dangerous serial killer on the loose.

He cleared his throat nervously. "Mr and Mrs Howard, I know this has been a difficult time for you and your family, but I need to take a statement from you both."

Mrs Howard pushed a strand of hair away from her face and looked at her husband. He nodded.

"Laura is, was," his voice broke, "was our only daughter. She'd wanted to be a lawyer since she was 13 years old and she became a damn good one at that. She'd usually come home every other weekend, depending on how busy her schedule was."

"Did she have any enemies?"

Mrs Howard smiled wryly. "I guess that as a lawyer, it would have been almost inevitable, all part of the job. But she never talked to us about that, she always evaded the subject. She, she was always so careful not to weigh us down with her problems, she preferred to deal with them by herself. She probably thought she needed to protect us from the bad people out there, but…"

Flack nodded and scribbled down some notes. "How about friends? Was there anyone she was particularly close to or…?"

The Howards looked at each other for a second, as if wondering whether any divulging on their part will result in dragging others into the whole thing.

Sensing this, Flack was quick the reassure them that it was routine to interview people close to their daughter, and that if her friends have nothing to hide, they may even be of use to the investigation.

The corners of Mrs Howard's lips twitched up. "Amber Reynolds. She and Laura have been friends since they were 10 years old, they were inseparable! I remember family holidays, the girls refused to go anywhere outside New York without the other, hell Amby _was_ family. Both of them have stayed in contact even though Amber moved to Texas to be with her boyfriend. I don't think they've seen each other recently though, Laura's been busy with a couple of cases…"

"Alright, well we're going to need contact details for her." Flack handed Mrs Howard a piece of paper, waiting for her to take out her address book and copy out the information he needed before taking the page back and slipping it into his notebook. "Thank you both for your time."

As he turned to leave, he felt a gentle hand on the cuff of his sleeve. Bright blue eyes met tired grey ones.

"Detective, please find whoever did this."

Flack nodded and stood a little straighter. "We'll try our hardest ma'am."

* * *

Mac sat alone in his office, wondering if he was right in how he handled Lindsay's return, especially considering Danny. He didn't even know _why_ he was thinking about it, because he had a ton of paperwork piling up on one side of his desk and an open case in front of him. Perhaps, just perhaps the boss 'front' he had so carefully maintained after Claire's death was beginning to waver just a little.

In the past, he would have been the first to say- absolutely no office romances, because he wanted to preserve the integrity of his lab and didn't want to give the IAB anything to come at them with. But things had changed. If he said that now, he'd be called a hypocrite, and even so, he'd have no intention of doing so because he knew that under the right circumstances, and with the right people involved, the lab would just carry on as normal.

Danny was the kid from Staten Island who was arrogant and hot-headed, but that certainly wasn't why Mac hired him. Mac knew from the start where his newest recruit had come from- a background of gangs and violence. While it would put some people off, Mac knew that by turning his life around Danny Messer would not be one to throw it all away, and he wasn't disappointed. In the lab, Danny was focused and always determined to nail the bad guy, even if it meant pulling triples and not sleeping for 4 days straight.

Even so, it probably would have been fair to say that CSI Detective Messer still had his wild ways. Mac was a great observer of people and with the lab's glass walls, it meant having eyes and ears everywhere. He was no stranger to Danny's exploits outside of work. No doubt these stories had been embellished and changed as it passed from person to person, but the essentials were still there- Danny liked to be a free man.

But Mac saw all that start to change, and in hindsight, hiring Lindsay Monroe was probably one of the best decisions of his life. Losing Aiden from the team was difficult, especially under those circumstances, but her replacement had proven she was just as capable and when Aiden's case had come up, Lindsay worked was if it was one of her own who had been killed. Mac admired her work ethics and her gutsy approach to everything in her way. Though she had tried to distance herself at first (Danny's teasing and name calling certainly did not help), she had become an indispensable member of the team.

Working together, Danny and Lindsay solved cases just like that. They bounced ideas off each other, and it was almost like they developed a keen awareness of what the other was doing. It was actually kind of freaky, Mac reflected.

So it would be inevitable then that being co-workers would feed into something more.

Mac rubbed his forehead. _So maybe he should have told Danny_, he thought, little twinges of guilt starting to creep into his system and making his head throb. The pair had grown close over the past year and a half, and producing a marked change in both parties involved. Danny became more mature and Lindsay a little more relaxed. So maybe they should just…

He groaned out loud. "Mac Taylor, you're becoming a soft touch."

A knock at the door startled him back into reality.

And who was it to knock but Danny Messer himself, standing at the door with his hands jammed firmly in his pockets. His eyes were glued to the floor.

"Is there something I can do for you Danny?"

The younger man's eyes flicked up briefly. "Stella told me to meet her here."

Mac nodded but realised his CSI wasn't watching him. Clearing his throat he said, "Okay, well sit down."

They waited in uncomfortable silence for what felt like eternity (when in fact it was no more than 5 minutes), neither wanting to bring up what had happened earlier in the day. The clip clop of heels from the almost deserted corridor outside signalled Stella's arrival.

She smiled apologetically on entering the room and pulled the door closed behind her. "Sorry, I got held up."

When she didn't get a response from either of the men, she mentally rolled her eyes. _God, they can be so childish sometimes!_ Sitting back a little more in her chair, she turned her attention to man sitting beside her.

"So, you get anything from the skull?"

Danny licked his lips. "Only that it was one of your regular baseball bats, but the angle was strange, given that our vic wasn't that tall."

Stella frowned. "Laura Howard was 5'6…"

"Right, and it looked like her attacker was shorter because the bat was tilted a little higher than it would be it her attacker was the same height as her or taller."

Mac folded his arms across his chest. "So there's a possibility that we're looking for a woman."

"Or a short man." A glimmer of the Messer smile crept onto his face before disappearing again.

Mac sighed, noticing the strain on both faces before him. "Alright you two, go home. Come back tomorrow with a fresh pair of eyes to look over the evidence."

Gathering her things, Stella was the first to leave the room, throwing a smile and a 'goodnight' over her shoulder. And she was gone, but not before giving Mac the look that said 'you'd better not sleep in the office tonight, you stubborn ass'.

And that left Danny, standing awkwardly in front of his boss.

"Danny, go."

The younger CSI looked up, opening his mouth to complain no doubt.

"Go." This time, it wasn't a request, it was an order.

* * *

Watching him leave Mac's office, Lindsay's stomach twisted. She knew that by staying as far away from him as possible, as she had been doing that entire day, she was only delaying the ugly scene when they did finally meet, face to face.

She tried not to think about the months between 'the conversation' and the day she left for Montana. Their friendship seemed to turn to ice, cold, so very very cold. Although the required pleasantries where still there, they were nevertheless, as suggested, obligatory. He rarely called her Montana after that, only on those occasions when she knew he let it slip out of habit. Hell, she'd grown so use of that name that it was weird for him to call her anything else. So the distance between them grew, but only on a personal level. At work, they worked together as good as they always did, though with no banter, no jokes.

She'd had her chances, plenty of them. She remembered all the times one of them could have made a move- the bug takeout, him carrying her across the rooftop, the day she stood him up… All were chances and she let every single one slip by. She didn't blame him for feeling angry at her, she wouldn't blame him if he didn't speak to her for the rest of eternity. She'd made her bed and whether or not it was the kind she would have liked, she now had to lie in it. And god, it will hurt like a bitch.

* * *

When Danny left the lab that day, his fury had yet to subside. However, the directionality of it had changed dramatically. At first, it was directed towards Stella and Mac, and anyone else who knew she was back because they found out before he did, what the hell did they do to deserve that privilege? Then he was angry at _her_, the centre of his universe and the bearer of his pain. Couldn't she have called? Just a 'hey Danny, I'm back, just thought you'd like to know' would have been enough. But no. Instead she hoped that word would just get 'round and that he'd know soon enough. It was like she didn't even respect him, his feelings and their friendship enough.

But he knew, walking down to the subway stop, that he was probably angrier at himself. He remembered, not so long ago, when Mac told him that it could happen to him too. Love. Danny of course told his boss not to joke about things like that, it just wasn't him. Yep, the Danny Messer back then enjoyed playing the field and though the gossips at the lab were somewhat exaggerated, he would have been the first to admit that he was a man after non-committal relationships. Even the tiniest sign of 'getting serious' would send him bolting for the door faster than when he'd come through it.

So why did all that change? He'd had a good thing going, he had fun, no strings attached, no mothers wielding frying pans… And a trip to the zoo would end it all.

Lindsay Monroe. Small town girl from Bozeman, Montana, a real firecracker. Initially, he was determined not to get close to her, after all, no one could replace Aiden, and at such short notice too. So he teased her, made fun of her, called her Montana and you know what they say about having a crush on someone? Yeah, you're mean to them. Danny himself didn't know it then, but when her eyes flashed angrily at him, he was only spurred on. But it wasn't just that, his Montana could give as good as she got and their workplace bickering soon turned into something flirtier.

He did realise he loved her until that fateful day she volunteered to go undercover. Truth be told, he'd never been more scared in his life because at that moment, he stumbled upon the realisation that though it was unlikely, there was always a chance of her not making it out of that building. That sudden awareness of the strength of his feelings for her didn't even make him want to run for the hills, instead all he wanted to do was to hold her in his arms and keep her safe. Danny Messer doesn't cuddle, but he'd change that for her, hell he'd change everything about himself to be a better man for her.

Then she said it.

"_It's not you."_

He said all he wanted was fun and drinks. He lied. He promised himself he'd wait for her, as long as it took for her so sort out whatever it was that was bugging her. He wanted to be there for her, wanted for her to trust him with her secrets, wanted her to just tell _him_, like when she found his DNA on that cigarette butt.

But, he reflected, they had both changed a lot. And though a part of him still desperately hoped that they would eventually be more than just work colleagues, there was that annoying, niggling voice at the back of his mind that told him to move on. He never planned to fall in love, nor did he ever think that he'd have his heart trampled on by the country girl who he shared an office with. It wouldn't be hard to go back to what he was doing before, in fact it would be so easy… He'd just end up comparing every girl to her.

He shook his head, hoping that the motion would quieten conflict in his mind. _Looks like it's just you, me and a six pack of beer tonight, Danno.

* * *

_

Lyrics from The Last One to Know by Reba Mcentire

**Author's Note:** Again, a million apologies for taking so long with this chapter, doesn't time fly by when you're up to your eyeballs in work? Anyway, big thanks to anyone still following, not entirely sure how many of you are left, but I hope you enjoyed that and let me know what you think:)


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